


Spontaneous Combustion

by LadyOfTheOldWorld



Series: Like Walking on Broken Glass [3]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Abuse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arima/Eto is a thing but not a sexual thing, Brief Depictions of Violence, Child Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Everything else is very much A Thing, F/M, Financial Issues, Gen, Heats are mentioned but not shown, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Tendencies, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Physical Abuse, Starvation, Suicidal Tendencies, That'll happen later on, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Tatara (Tokyo Ghoul), Trans Yoshimura Eto | Takatsuki Sen, Underage - Freeform, Verbal Abuse, not beta read we die like men, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 02:05:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18174407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfTheOldWorld/pseuds/LadyOfTheOldWorld
Summary: Through the eyes of a child, things change overnight. -- Eto-centric.





	Spontaneous Combustion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercyandmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercyandmagic/gifts).



> As you can probably tell from the tags, this's where the series gets DARK, fam. PLEASE keep yourselves safe, even if that means not reading this monstrosity!!!
> 
> (As always, Tatara's binding isn't at all safe, even if it isn't directly mentioned.)

Nothing happened overnight, but to Eto, it felt as if it did.

Tatara seemed to break under the pressure quickly. As a child she had no way of knowing that he had already cracked, mind already burdened with his own childhood traumas and adolescent horrors, so to her it looked like things changed dramatically overnight. She didn’t know when or where or why or how, just that they did. She knew that he started speaking to her less and less, but that when he did, it was usually because she’d upset him in some way. Though, she supposed _that_ couldn’t be called speaking. There was a certain measure of civility and restraint implied by that word, and there was nothing even remotely civil or restrained when she had earned his ire. When that happened, her new guardian screamed, voice rising in pitch and cracking as he flung every single hateful word he could think of at her. And of course that reminder of the wrongness of his biology would just make him even angrier, until he would eventually just turn and leave, slamming the door so hard Eto wondered if the landlord would finally just have enough.

That said, it never happened. Somehow, bills were payed, the rent was payed, and there was just enough left over for groceries. It meant that rather than wondering daily, Eto would only have to wonder weekly if they would have food. Of course, as she had discovered when Noro was unceremoniously ripped away from her, nothing like stability or contentment lasted. The stress of working two part-time jobs, added to the stress of school and taking care of a child, quickly broke what little mental stability Tatara had left. After being fired from one of his jobs for yelling at a customer, the budget had to be readjusted until he could – _hopefully_ – find somewhere else to hire him. Money was quickly pushed toward rent and bills, and unsurprisingly, the most expensive things were cut out. Only cheap and/or store-brand items could be afforded, but those weren’t the only things that took a hit. Everything had to be done to keep bills as low as possible, such as taking short cold showers, and using the electricity as sparingly as possible.

Of course, lowering bills and spending as little money on food as possible wasn’t even their main issue. Being barely legal himself – his birthday had passed in the summer before he was fired, making him twenty – Tatara couldn’t afford health insurance, and Eto certainly didn’t have any. Which meant everything had to come out of pocket, even though they didn’t have the money for it. The most expensive things were of course suppressants and birth control, and despite having developed quite the skill with pickpocketing, not even Eto could steal those. Without suppressants, Tatara was susceptible to monthly heats just the same as any other omega that had already presented, and that just made him even angrier. Thanks to his surprisingly strong will and with copious amounts of cheap or stolen scented products, he could more or less hide and deal with it, but that then meant he was liable to lash out at the drop of a hat.

Somehow he managed to keep it together during his shifts, but that meant that it was kept bottled up inside of him for hours or even days at a time, depending on how much school stressed him out. Because of course he was still throwing himself at his studies, in the seemingly futile hope that when he was finally done in roughly five years, he would be able to get a good teaching position. Until then, however, all of his anger and stress and anxiety and fear ended up directed at the two people in his life. Eto suspected that he was half attempting to drive Houji away on purpose, for whatever convoluted or flat-out insane reason, but she didn’t have the time to think about it. Not when all of it was suddenly directed at her, and especially not when it quickly escalated from simply being screamed at every so often. Being a child, and already having had a tendency to needle the people around her for her own amusement, she quickly discovered that Tatara did _not_ take kindly to it anymore.

She was nine the first time he hit her, but she knew even then that it wouldn’t be the last. Having a child’s perception of time, mature for her age or not, things seemed to quickly escalate to her. Once again, it seemed to change overnight, going from simply being yelled at occasionally, to being screamed at on a nearly daily basis and being hit nearly as often. The treatment she was receiving at home led Eto to lash out at school, and to getting in fights to "explain" the bruises she was only barely starting to learn how to hide. After she seemed to mellow out, the staff stopped talking about it, but she had in truth only gotten smarter about it. Despite being a child, she was already aware enough to realize that her actions had consequences. So, she took all of her feelings elsewhere. Mainly, she threw her feelings at anyone she could, interspersed with her pickpocketing… and the thing that should have frightened her about it, was that she was _good_ at it.

Somehow, despite being small for her age and light thanks to semi-constant malnutrition, she was inexplicably good at hurting people. Good at getting under guards and hitting hard, before whomever she was fighting even knew quite what to do with her, or what to make of her. Good at grinning saccharine poison to make them underestimate her even more. Good at finding the best place the sink the knife, and then _twisting_ – both literally and metaphorically. Eventually, however, she discovered she was good at other things. At talking to people, and at making them listen. At drawing an audience, even when she hadn’t meant to. At getting people to hear what she was saying, even when _she_ didn’t even know what she was saying. Eto couldn’t have said when the desire to change things began, but even young as she was, she knew that it was something that needed to happen. Even at ten, she knew that if no-one else was going to do something, then _she_ would.

Her goal became to fuck up the system that kept people oppressed, and then to smash the twisted birdcage that was the world they lived in. Of course, even with her revolution slowly sprouting, it didn’t change things at home. It didn’t make things worse, but it didn’t need to. The situation had devolved all on its own, much to Eto’s disgust. Not that she showed this disgust; she wasn’t stupid or naïve enough to think Tatara would hesitate to kill her if she made him angry enough. He had been bad before, but now that he’d turned to so-called _liquid courage_ to try to cope with everything, she knew how it would end if she pushed him too far. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be either a high functioning alcoholic or somehow able to keep it together enough to not be fired (yet again) or expelled. That said, it meant their already stretched thin funds gave way completely under his new vice, making Eto realize they needed a _real_ second source of income and _fast_.

She may have only been eleven, but the realities of her life meant she had had to grow up more quickly than other children. At first, writing had just been an escape, something she enjoyed but didn’t give much thought to otherwise. Now, it needed to become something she could use. They needed a legitimate source of income, or not having heat and electricity would be the least of their worries. (Some of their bills hadn’t been paid, so it was going to be a _very_ cold and dark winter.) Having to wear old clothes until they fell apart would be the least of their worries. Turning twelve and finally presenting wasn’t even something Eto was thinking about. She was too busy trying to make something of her writing, too busy fighting to stay alive. Too busy walking on eggshells around Tatara to avoid bruises and broken bones. Too busy doing things no twelve-year-old should ever have to do. Too busy attacking a boy she knew had ties to the police just to make everything make _sense_ , or just to make everything _stop_.

It should have been amusing that she "met" Kishou Arima on the same day that Houji showed up again for the first time in years. It should have been amusing to realize that that day would change everything, change the world as she knew it. But it wasn’t, neither at the time, nor when she looked back on it later. It was just sad, if she were being honest. Sad that she had fled one situation that could have gotten her killed – Tatara furious and drunk out of his mind and screaming at Houji for the gods only knew _what_ – only to heedlessly and carelessly barrel headlong into another one. Pulling a knife on someone she knew could kill her was reckless and stupid and suicidal, but that was the point that she had come to in her life. Reckless and stupid and suicidal and done, just fucking _done_. She expected the beautiful boy with blue hair and steely silver eyes, dressed smartly and looking as if he had never starved a single day in his life, to shoot first and ask questions later.

Eto hadn’t even wondered what he was doing there, she had simply attacked. She never expected to be soundly beaten, though it should have been expected when facing off against someone with actual combat training. She expected to be simply pinned to the ground of the dark back alley even less, given how much she was screaming and fighting. No matter how much she thrashed, doing her best to bite and claw at him, he never fought back beyond adjusting his gentle but firm hold on her as needed. Eventually, however, exhaustion settled in and all she could do was cry. It surprised her even more that he just held her, arms wrapped around her and face pressed against the side of her neck. Of course, that was when she realized that for all of his gentleness, he was tense. It dawned her just as suddenly that he was attempting to breathe shallowly, the scent of fresh mint pouring off of her in waves obviously affecting him. That he managed to hold himself in check, when she could feel him clenching his jaw hard to keep from biting her, shocked her even more.

Later she would realize that he was doing his best to give off calming scents, but for the moment, all the tiny omega knew was that exhaustion sucked the fight out of her and gave way to tears she couldn’t have suppressed even if she had had the energy to try. She had no idea what her emotions splattering everywhere were doing to the alpha on top of her, only knew that she was affecting him in some way, and that he was barely holding himself back. All of that said, it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he gave in, will seemingly not strong enough to hold out against a crying omega pouring distressed scents everywhere. Had she been in better shape, had she not been starving and physically unable to survive it, having him give in and sink his teeth deep into her throat would have triggered a heat. As it stood, she simply whined softly, body going limp. Not that the whimper was from any sort of pain or further distress; even young as she was, she knew that she could burn off the claim mark, if need be.

Her exclamation had simply been from shock, if she were being honest. This close, situated with her on her back and the boy between her legs to get as much leverage as he could, it wouldn’t have taken a genius to realize she wasn’t biologically female. Add to that the fact that she was obviously gutter trash – her school uniform was starting to be too small, she was nothing but bones, she knew her way around a knife – and... well. It never occurred to her that anyone would ever want her. To be claimed by a boy like this, even though they knew nothing about each other, even though she had tried to get him to kill her, was shocking beyond words for Eto. After a rather awkward ten minutes, he slowly relaxed his jaw and his hold on her; it likely surprised both of them equally when she didn’t immediately shove him off and run. She could have easily done so, and he probably wouldn’t have stopped her. But there was something deep inside of her screaming that this was okay.

Eto couldn’t have said why she didn’t run, couldn’t have pin-pointed what exactly made her stay; all she knew was that she did. She even allowed him – her new… _mate_? – to shift them into an altogether different but distinctly more comfortable position. At least, as comfortable as a freezing cold alley in the middle of the night in late December could be, anyway. They ended up with the blue-haired boy seated with his back to the nearest wall, Eto settled somewhat awkwardly on his lap. She hadn’t been held like this, hadn’t been touched with kindness, in years. It was almost as startling as being claimed, if she were perfectly honest. As a soft snow began to fall, she instinctively curled herself into a small ball against his chest, cheeks flushing pink when he took off his coat and wrapped her in it. Under that silently falling snow, they quietly introduced themselves to one another, trying to move away from some of the awkwardness of the situation they found themselves in.

Somehow, the subject turned from family to goals and aspirations. While Eto had been reticent and unsure up until that point, not used to being open with anyone about anything, Kishou had been more than willing to honest with her. It was strange to hear how insane his family was, and that he hated everyone in it aside from his younger sisters (Rize and Hairu) and younger brother (Yusa), but Eto could at least relate to not having an ideal home life. She didn’t go into detail, but did at least tell him that the man that raised her had died when she was eight, and that her current guardian/foster father was… _less than stable_. Once again, Kishou surprised her by not pushing or prying. He simply accepted that that was all she was willing and/or ready to tell him, and left it at that. That was when the conversation turned, making Eto shrug awkwardly after he admitted he wanted to be a cop to try and help people. Another flush rose to her cheeks, as she admitted her own ambitions quietly.

“I see.” For a moment, all she could see was Kishou’s beautiful smile. “That’s great.”

Heart hammering in her chest, Eto decided that _maybe..._ this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Spontaneous combustion occurs by self-heating, followed by thermal runaway (self heating which rapidly accelerates to high temperatures), and finally, autoignition.
> 
> Proof read and tags updated 3/20/19.


End file.
